The dead of the night
by Blonde Panther
Summary: FE7. Waking to the task of gathering Quintessence, he sets out to end the mice that hinder his master... somewhat familiar mice.


**Disclaimer: **Anything you recognize belongs to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems.

_**Author's Notes: **For reasons of my own, I decided to write something nice and dark for you all. It's an idea I've had for a little while now, just never got around to writing it until now._

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He opened his eyes to darkness. With his body unresponsive and his mind foggy, he took a few minutes to gain his bearings, his eyes finally growing used to the darkness so that he could see the stone ceiling. It was quite unentertaining to watch, so he was glad to feel the muscles in his neck functioning to let him turn his head. Looking around the room as best he could from his position in the bed, he recognised nothing. However, it gave him the time he needed to learn how to move his body, and he sat up.

When his body allowed him to stand up and walk a few steps around the room, he spotted a set of clothes. Without really knowing why, he reached for them and started to put them on, in the process of which the old, decrepit and very creaky door to his lair was opened. He did not turn around to face the cause of the door opening until he was fully dressed, finding a tall, gaunt figure obstructing the light falling in.

_You've woken. _He gave no acknowledgment of the words. _And you seem functional. There is a task I need you to perform. _His attention was drawn to something at roughly his own midriff height. The figure had extended one hand, in which he held a sheathed blade. Without requesting permission to, he reached towards it, taking the grip and drawing the weapon from its safe haven. It was a thin sword, not overly long and very light. As he ran his free hand over the blade as if to test it, the figure in the doorway gave a chuckle.

_It's yours. Use it to end the miserable lives of the mice that have interfered with my plans. Then, harvest their Quintessence and bring it to me. _Once more, he gave no visible acknowledgment of the figure's words. He only took the scabbard, sheathed the sword, and fastened the belt around his waist. Then, he waited for the figure to turn around and leave the room in which he had woken. Immediately, light flooded his eyes.

He left the complex, unhindered by the figure or the black-haired, golden-eyed creatures that he encountered. They all ignored him, as he ignored them. One gave him a long, hard stare... but he was not attacked afterwards, so he let it be.

The camp that the figure at his bedside had spoken of was not far from the complex. He walked in, unhindered by the lone guard that was sleeping at the campfire. He slowly and quietly unsheathed his weapon, pointing it at the back of the man and briefly considering to bury the blade in him. However, sensing no extraordinary Quintessence, he decided it could wait. Especially since he sensed something far more powerful.

Entering the nearest tent, he needed no more than a second to locate the man resting in the middle of it. As he approached him, he woke up, looking at him. While he froze over, his target groaned. _Oh, it's you. What are you doing here? It´s the middle of the blasted night._ He did not question why this man did not attack him and instead spoke to him as if his presence was a minor annoyance. Instead, he took the opportunity to bend one knee, quickly bringing down the tip of his sword on the normally armored chest of the man. He gave a cry, prompting him to put a hand over his mouth.

His target did not last long, and within seconds, he wrapped his free hand around some extremely powerful Quintessence. The life force of a great warrior. He felt no guilt nor regret. The only thing he felt was a hint of excitement at the immense power that was literally at his fingertips… but he would not absorb it. He had gotten explicit order to bring all Quintessence to the figure in the complex. He decided to carry the power with him as he sought out another, almost equally powerful source that he sensed not far from the tent.

This time his target was a woman, sleeping not inside a tent or bedroll like her male companion but on the ground outside, curled up not far from the dying fire. Unlike the first one, she did not wake up as he approached and she gave no response whatsoever when he ended her life and gathered her essence.

The power, invisible to most eyes, danced and twinkled, subtly changing colors as the woman's was mixed in with the man's. Both were very powerful, and the temptation to take the power for himself instead of following his orders rose. He resisted the urge.

_My lord?_ Found out. It mattered not. The human who had found him had an acceptable amount of reasonably strong Essence… he never expected him to turn around and drive the sword through him. Once more, the power in his free hand changed its color and increased in the power of its temptation.

He didn't know for how long he went around the camp, killing all who possessed signs of acceptable Quintessence. He left the weak, as well as a young woman who showed no signs of Quintessence at all, and finally dropped the remains of his broken sword, bringing his sword hand up to the hand in which he had gathered the collected Essence. It had turned white by now, unable to convert all the colors into anything else, and had started to burn his hand.

It was great, and it was tempting. However, before he could decide what to do with his orders, light enveloped him. When the light dimmed, he found himself back at the complex he had originated from. Before him stood the figure that had given him his sword, this time clearly visible in the light as a male human. He sensed no Quintessence, much like with the woman that he had left in the camp…

_Such a magnificent stock of Essence._ The Essence-less man extended his hand. When he didn't hand over the power he had gathered immediately, he heard chuckling. _You would defy your master? How very entertaining. You may be amused to know that the men and women from whom you took this essence were your friends. _When his body tensed up without him wanting it to, the Quintessence was forcibly taken from him and the middle of his chest was struck by a very sharp pain. The next thing he knew was that he was on the ground, cringing in pain. _I have no further use for you, _his master said. _You've served me well. Your father will be very happy to hear how useful you were tonight._ With that, the man disappeared into thin air, taking the luscious Quintessence with him.

He was left on the ground, although the pain quickly dissipated. Finding a hand mirror on the ground next to him, he willed his hand to move and take it, holding it in such a way that he could look into it. He didn't know why… his master's words had sowed doubt in him. He could only see himself for a brief second before his sight gave out.

Black hair, golden eyes, and blood-red lips. He still did not understand, but the face he had seen in the mirror did not belong to someone who had just committed the heinous mass murder that he had. Before his consciousness and his body stopped functioning altogether, he wished he would have used the Essence he had gathered to overthrow his master… and protect that Essence-less woman.

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_**Additional Author's Notes: **How Nergal got his hands on the Quintessence to make a Morph of Eliwood with, I'm gonna leave up to you guys. Also, before anyone asks, the reason why no one realised Eliwood's color pallette was off was because it was the middle of the night. Our eyes are unable to perceive color in the dark- while they may have been able to recognize Eliwood, they would not have realized his hair was too dark and his eyes too bright before it was too late._


End file.
